Chapter 8 Cain
CAIN
I knocked once on Benji’s door and then listened for him to check the peephole before unlocking the door.
“You’re here!” He flew into my arms like it had been years instead hours since he’d last seen me.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” I stepped inside with him still plastered to my body.
Despite the distinct lack of healthy needles, Benji’s little tree gave off a fresh pine scent that filled his whole house.
As I looked at the tree, I had to do a double-take.
Not only was his pathetic branch covered in twinkling lights and ornaments that looked bigger than it was, there was also a mountain of gifts piled around it.
There must’ve been twenty-five boxes down there in different shapes and sizes, each wrapped in fancy paper that looked straight out of a magazine. “Wow. You’ve been busy.”
He shrugged. “I had everything in storage boxes, so it just took a few minutes to unpack and set up.”
I cocked my head, not sure what he meant. “But those gifts look professionally wrapped. That must have taken hours.”
Benji grabbed one of the bigger boxes and tossed it to me like it weighed nothing.
I almost threw my back out stretching for it to make sure whatever special surprise was inside didn’t get damaged. But I was just as off balance when I did catch it, and it did, in fact, weigh nothing. “What is this?”
Benji grabbed the box from me and artfully placed it back where it belonged. “They’re fakies.”
I frowned. “What do you mean, fakies?”
He smiled, but I saw his mask slip for just a second. “Um, just what I said. Fake presents.” He rearranged a blue one so it was on a matching blue pile. “I bought them all wrapped up because the tree looks better than without any underneath.”
“Well, it does look very nice.” I had to tread lightly, carefully choosing my words so I didn’t hurt his feelings. “But what about real presents? Have you done your shopping yet?”
“My mom and I don’t really exchange presents.
She works at a hotel and never gets holidays off, so we’ll meet for dinner on one of her days off, but other than that, I don’t really have anyone else to shop for.
” He cleared his throat and tried to look chipper.
“So this helps me feel like it’s Christmas time when I’m by myself. ”
It was my turn to stare between him and then back at the tree. I was speechless. And the rock in my throat made it hard to respond. “This year, you’ll have real gifts, sweetheart. I promise.”
He ducked his head. “Just one. I don’t need anything fancy. And I already know what I’m getting you.”
My heart ached in a way that was completely foreign to me. I tried to make my voice light as I nodded. “I can’t wait to see what it is.”
He grinned, and I could see the effort he put into making it look real. “So, you mentioned something about shopping?”
I inhaled deeply, forcing myself out of this sad moment of his lonely reality to the present. The future. Our future. “How about brunch first and then groceries. So we don’t buy a bunch of junk food.”
He cocked his head. “Well, I need a little bit of junk food, but I could eat.”
“Then let’s go.”
Benji jumped up, and his sweatshirt rode up to expose a strip of his bare hip. From the other side of his house, I heard drawers opening and the occasional thud of something falling or closing.
A few minutes later, Benji reappeared in jeans and a hoodie, looking ten times more awake than he had ten minutes ago. “Ready!”
“Don’t forget your mittens.” I held up his coat to help him slide into it. “It’s coming down out there.”
Benji huffed, but I could see the hint of a smile as he put on his gloves. He seemed to like having someone looking out for him. By the time we made it to the car, he’d gotten snow down the back of his collar and was shivering in a way that was mostly for my benefit.
“Looks like someone is chilly.”
“I am, Daddy.” He turned up the heater and leaned across the front seat so his head was on my shoulder. “But I’m getting warmer.”
The Broken Egg was a ten-minute drive and already packed when we got there. I parked at the far end of the lot and opened his door to let him out.
“I can open my own door.” Benji made a show of complaining about his independence, but I caught him smiling every time he thought I wasn’t looking. “But thank you.”
We eventually got seated next to the donut bar, and Benji’s eyes went straight to the towers of powdered sugar, mini marshmallows, and crushed candy canes.
He grabbed a plate, and I trailed behind, watching him study each option with serious contemplation.
In the end, he built a pyramid of donuts, then topped it with whipped cream and sprinkles. It was something to behold.
I detoured to the protein station and filled my plate with scrambled eggs and some fruit then headed back to the table.
Benji carefully cut into his masterpiece and took the first bite. His eyes fluttered shut, and he sighed dramatically. “O.M.G. This is so good. Second-best thing I’ve had in my mouth this weekend.”
I caught his eye and he winked. “That so?”
He nodded as he chewed. “Wonder what the third-best thing will be.”
Benji was being flirty, but I had to take control of the conversation before we rushed out of the restaurant without eating. “It’s gonna be eggs.” I pushed the plate closer to him. “And some fruit. My boy can’t survive on donuts and whipped cream.”
“Oh.” His neck pinked up, and he swallowed hard. “Well, I guess a little bit of protein won’t kill me.” But that wasn’t enough for him. He was in a playful mood and wanted to test the boundaries. “But I’d prefer your protein over some dumb chicken eggs any day.”
“If you’re good.” I held in a smirk and took a deep breath to calm myself. My jeans were already tighter in the crotch than was appropriate for a public place. “Maybe we can talk about some Daddy dessert when we get back.”
After brunch, we hit up the grocery store.
Benji grabbed a cart and pushed it up and down while talking a mile a minute.
I hadn’t seen this super chatty side of him yet, but I loved it.
And when he asked what my favorite drinks and snacks were so he could keep them stocked at his place, I loved that too.
Benji walked at my side, close enough that our arms brushed together every other step. I loved how he always stayed within touching distance, even when there was plenty of space. Like he was afraid I’d get lost.
Not on my watch. From now on, he would always be cared for and looked after.
On the way home, Benji fiddled with the radio until he found the all-Christmas station. “Last Christmas” was playing, and I could tell by the way he was humming, he wanted to sing along. So, I started our little impromptu karaoke session and started singing at the top of my lungs.
Benji was quick to jump in, changing the words to make them dirty. By the second verse, I was laughing so hard I nearly missed the turn for his street.
The second we were back at the house, he tore off his boots and sprinted to the kitchen to unload the groceries. He lined up the clementines, put away the jams, and then turned back to me, suddenly shy. “Can I get you anything? Maybe some coffee?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
He set up the drip pot, counting the scoops aloud with his tongue peeking out in concentration. Once it was brewing, he moved to the living room and collapsed onto the rug in front of the tree.
I followed and sat on the couch with my legs spread so he could settle between them if he wanted to.
As suspected based on the direction of his made-up song lyrics, he did.
After a minute, Benji spoke, his voice soft. “So, what are your plans for Christmas?”
“I usually volunteer in whatever city I’m in, but I don’t have any plans for this year. What about you?”
He was quiet for a minute. “My mom usually works on the holidays, so I don’t bother trying to see her. Mostly I hang here with Chinese takeout and cartoons.”
“That sounds lonely.” I ran my fingers through his hair and then pressed my hand against his chest, nudging him closer to me. “Any chance you want some company this year?”
He looked up at me, eyes bright. “Really?”
“Of course.” I pulled him up into my lap and kissed him. I’d been wanting to do that all day. “I don’t want to spend Christmas without my boy.”
“Okay.” He swallowed hard and nodded. “That would make this year really special.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just kissed him again.
He closed his eyes, melting into me. “You think it’s weird to have fake presents?”
“Not at all.” That wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t weird. It was sad. And that tradition was officially over. “I think it’s beautiful.”
He was quiet for a long time. “Daddy?” He said the word quietly like still testing the way it felt and sounded.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“I liked what we did in bed last night.”
I grinned and gave him a squeeze. “I liked it too.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe we can do that now? And more…”
“Maybe. What kind of more?” His hard dick was pushing into my hip, so I was pretty sure I knew what he meant, but I wanted him to say the words.
“More of your protein inside of me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “In my mouth…and maybe in my bottom…”
I choked on my spit. “Oh, okay. I guess you don’t want to take it slow?”
He smiled and then pressed his lips to the skin under my ear. “My whole life has been slow. Now that I have you, I want to go fast. There’s no need to wait for anything…” He sighed. “Except Christmas. We have to wait a little longer for that.